


The Things About Jonathan Sims

by acareeroutofrobbingbanks



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bubble Bath, Fluff, M/M, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acareeroutofrobbingbanks/pseuds/acareeroutofrobbingbanks
Summary: There's a lot of capital T Things about Jonathan Sims. One of the less romantic ones is that he's kind of sweaty.ORJon has a nightmare, Martin draws a bath.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 7
Kudos: 118





	The Things About Jonathan Sims

The thing about Jon was - okay, well, there were a million things about Jon. Martin could spend ages writing all of the things about Jon that were things about him. Like, Martin could say: “The thing about Jon was his hands,” because Martin spent a great deal of time thinking about Jon’s hands, the way they curved and illustrated what he was talking about, the thin, almost spidery look of them, the paper-soft feel of them holding onto Martin’s hands in return. 

Yeah, Martin could talk about Jon’s hands.

But the thing about Jon that particular evening was, for a guy as lightweight as he was, he was actually quite sweaty. And, the other thing about Jon, one of the many other things about Jon that Martin was learning, now they were sequestered together in their lonely little cabin in Northern Scotland, was that Jon had awful nightmares, and when he woke from them he was terribly sweaty, and, frankly, a little bit gross. 

So it was that when Jon woke up screaming at three in the morning and, by extension, woke up Martin, Martin clapped his hands together and said: 

“Okay, bathtime.”

Jon gave Martin a disbelieving look, some of the power of which was sapped by the fact that he was still heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“Bathtime?” Jon repeated. He was clearly trying to sound derisive, but he just sounded scared, which only made Martin feel more self-assured in what he was doing.

“Bathtime,” Martin agreed. “You’re soaked in sweat and you probably don’t want to go back to sleep yet, do you?” 

Jon, for his part, huffed. Martin almost smiled. 

“Strip off the sheets and throw them in the wash, I’ll draw the bath.”

Martin was in the bathroom in a flash, turning on the hot and cold water taps. He didn’t know how Jon took his baths, though given his self-destructive nature Martin imagined he was the sort to make the water so hot that when he finally stood again the change in temperature made him promptly pass out, so Martin made it hot as he dared without making it dangerous in such a way. One the bath was halfway full, he took a slightly crusted bottle of shower gel and began to pump it in under the faucet, filling the tub with bubbles as the water rose. 

“M-Martin, this really isn’t necessary-” Jon began, and Martin gave him a look. Jon had one arm hugging his other side, teeth sunk into his look. He was, Martin realized, embarrassed looking. He had pulled off his pajama pants and was in only a t shirt and boxers (both damp with sweat) and Martin realized he’d never seen Jon in so little. 

Martin swallowed.

“I can leave, if you like,” he said, holding his voice pointedly firm. “But I’m insisting on the bath before you get back into bed. It’s not hygenic going around all soaked in your own sweat like that.”

“Leave?” Jon asked. “Oh, yes, you- do you have to?” he asked. 

Martin felt a flush of heat rise to his cheeks. 

“Have to? Well, do you want me here? It’s sort of… private.”

He wasn’t sure why he was sticking his foot in his mouth. He always wanted to be with Jon, and he wasn’t going to lie and say he _minded_ the idea of being around Jon while Jon was undressed. But at the same time, Jon’s comfort was more important, and Martin didn’t want to scare him away. 

“I don’t want to be alone,” Jon whispered. He looked miserably embarrassed admitting it, but he seemed to know only how to speak the truth these days. “You could… turn around while I undress?”

“Right,” Martin said. “Right.”

He turned off the water, leaving a thick foam of bubbles on top of a sizable amount of steamy hot water in the tub.

“Now?” Jon said, a bit of his old snappishness returning. 

“Right!” Martin squeaked, and he turned around. He heard the soft sounds of fabric sliding across skin, piling up on the floor, and then the gentle splash of Jon stepping into the tub. It was followed by the louder groan of Jon sinking into the tub and letting out a moan of (relief? Happiness? fear?) contentment as the hot water poured over him.

“Right,” Jon repeated back after a moment. “You can turn around now.”

Martin did turn. Jon was seated somewhere in the middle of the bath, his knees drawn up against his chest. Bubbles covered his whole pelvis and his feet, but for the large part he was still shivering in the chilly night air.

“Lay down properly, would you?” Martin asked, astonished by his own confidence. “You’ll catch your death that way.”

“That’s not even-” Jon began, then sighed. He slowly leaned back in the tub until his back was against the far side and most of his torso had slipped under the bubbles. There was less skin that Martin could see, which was both a blessing and a curse. He winced, and Martin was immediately worried.

“Is it too hot?” he asked. “I didn’t mean to make it too hot, I just figured you were the sort that liked it-”

“The water’s fine, Martin,” Jon said.

That was another Thing about Jon. Martin loved the way Jon held his name in his mouth, cradled it almost. Just the way he said Martin’s name, these days, anyways, made him feel… loved. 

Martin knelt down on the floor beside the bathtub. He pulled a sponge off the side of the tub then his hand hovered over the soapy water for a moment.

“May I?” he asked. His self-consciousness was nearly overwhelming, but it was all worth it when slowly, uncertainly, Jon nodded, the ends of his hair trailing in bath water. 

Nothing for it. Martin dunked the sponge under the water and squeezed it out, then ran it over the scarred skin of Jon’s shoulder. Jon shuddered a little, but made no indication for Martin to stop. 

Martin wiped Jon down with care bordering on reverence. As he did, Jon seemed to grow accustomed to the bath, sinking deeper into it as they went. The artificial cucumber melon scented bubbles provided enough cover that Jon was, Martin supposed, technically decent. Decent as in he could be shown on TV, but entirely indecent for Martin to see, he decided. Jon was so open, so vulnerable, so-

It was good that Martin had a task to focus on, at any rate. 

Once all of Jon’s skin was glistening with water rather than sweat, Martin drew back.

“You sure you don’t want me to go?” he asked, and Jon nodded.

“I’m absolutely sure I want you to stay,” he said. And Martin did.

**Author's Note:**

> just a bit of angsty fluff before the new season comes and destroys us all :)


End file.
